Advice
by SuprSingr
Summary: Helga needs romantic advice... so who can she go to other than the expert of giving out advice?


**A/N: **No comment.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own nuttin'.

**_~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~ Advice ~_**

**Advice**

**One-Shot**

Helga moved stealthily across the playground, undetected by any of her peers, just as she'd wanted. She didn't want to draw any attention to herself, as she was on a personal mission. Her eyes shifted from side to side as she walked closer and closer, before returning to the object of her affections, just a few feet away from her. She saw him looking back at her curiously now, the jelly from his PB&J leaking out of the sides slightly as he sat on the bench. It was lunch time, but there had been a massive food fight just the other day (Courtesy of herself, though she wasn't one to brag... well, too much), and the lunch ladies and janitor had all been too lazy to clean it up right away, so everyone was forced to eat outside on the playground. Not that it was a bad thing. Once they got finished with their lunch, they could play on the playground for a while until lunch time was over. Just as Helga had planned... somewhat...

She stopped right in front of the football headed boy, and gave him an obviously forced smile, her hands behind her back. He just blinked up at her. She just gracefully sat herself beside him, her legs crossing over one another as she stared at him intently. She smiled a bit wider at him then. "Hey there, Foot-Arnold..."

He blinked at her yet again, a weary, almost worried look coming to his eyes. "Uh, hey, Helga. Was there something you wanted?" He looked back down at his sandwich.

Helga gasped dramatically, putting a hand to her chest in mock-hurt. "What? I can't just come over here and sit next to one of my _closest_ and _dearest_ friends?" She smiled again, her sparkling, white teeth showing.

Arnold couldn't help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at her, being able to clearly read into her charade.

Helga maintained her toothy grin a moment longer, before she finally deflated into a neutral look and her posture settled. "Fine. You caught me." She looked around them to make sure there were no witnesses. Once concluding this, she looked back at him with a serious gaze. "Alright, Football Head, I just came over because I needed some... some..." She gulped, as if it was hard for her. "...h-h-h-h-h-hel-l-lp..." She let out a relieved sigh before continuing, "You know, some of that fancy advice you're always giving out."

Arnold blinked, surprised. He set his sandwich back into his 'Yahoo Soda Lunch Box', and turned back to her with a more calm, but still slightly surprised look. "Um, of course, Helga. What's the problem?"

Helga sighed, uncrossing her legs and instead hooking one foot over the other underneath her, and setting her hands on either side of her as she looked at him. "Well, actually, it's romantic advice." She looked away from him.

Arnold blinked, before a small smile came to is face. "Okay." He urged her to continued.

She shifted her eyes back to him. "Well, I really like this guy, but I don't know what to do about it... at all. What should I do?"

Arnold folded his hands in his lap, not hesitating to say the first thing that came to his mind. "Well, the first thing you should do is talk to him."

"I've already done that." She informed him, her shoulders slouching a little.

"Yeah, but did you tell him how you feel about him?" He elaborated a bit more, looking at her intently.

She rolled her eyes a little at the memory of THAT. "Yup. No dice, Football Head. He's dense as bricks."

Arnold absorbed this information before continuing, "How straight-forward were you with him? I mean, was there any way he could have maybe misinterpreted your confession as something else?"

Helga almost laughed at that, and shook her head. "Nope. I out-right told him that I liked him. In a purely romantic way."

Arnold nodded. "Okay, and did he tell you how he feels?"

Helga resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply shook her head. "Uh-uh. I haven't gotten a peep out of him about it since."

Arnold frowned slightly, unfolding his hands slightly in his lap. "Well, it sounds like the balls in his court. I can't say for sure why he hasn't told you how he feels yet, though. Maybe he's unsure of how he feels, and is just trying to figure everything out. You should just give him some space to really think about it."

Helga frowned at that, but pretended to contemplate it for his sake before forcing a smile. "Thanks, Arnoldo. That sure is some swell advice." She stood up then, but just before she walked away she added, "Oh, and if you ever tell anyone I came to you for romantic advice, or advice at all for that matter, expect a pounding. Kapeesh?" She warned, staring him down with her hands on her hips.

Arnold held up his hands in surrender and smiled up at her. "Of course, Helga. My lips are sealed."

"Good." She stood there another moment, before she suddenly felt awkward and stalked off, muttering under her breath, "The stinkin' egg head still doesn't get it..." She shook her head slightly, still walking away.

Arnold watched her walk off, before taking out his PB&J again with a slightly amused smile. He shook his head slightly in wonder. "Just a little more time, Helga. Just a little more time." He smiled a bit wider, biting into his peanut butter and jelly sandwich finally, and watching the retreating form of Helga Pataki with an only slightly dreamy look.


End file.
